Sorry =[

I have felt the power of writing, the way it can affect people. I am experiencing a unique thing in Wadi Rum that is too sensitive to write about. It is over and done with, but I don't feel comfortable writing about it on the internet. It is just in the journal. It may be a while until my next post, I'm very sorry and If you want to know I am alive please email me. I sometimes may not check my email for about a week, so don't get too worried.
Love,

Bailey

Burdah Bailey

I’ve noticed something strange since we have been here. Before we went to Egypt, I would always look down at the sand when we went in a jeep or on the camels, now I look up at the mountains. I think my body and mind are finally starting to take this magnificent desert in. It took some time to concentrate on the ground, but now I am concentrating on the mountains. I just recently went up one of those mountains and it was fantastic. I had done a tour with a couple of British college kids, and they were planning on climbing Burdah Rock bridge, and invited me to go along. Climbing Burdah was on my list of things to do before I leave, so I leapt at the chance. We started a trek out in the desert to get to the bridge, which hurt my hips. There is something strange about women in the desert; our hips start to burn right at the joints after walking for an extended period of time. For men, they don’t hurt at all because they don’t have “real” hips. The scramble up to the rock bridge was difficult, with slippery places, ledges, and drops. You cannot have a fear of heights to do the scramble. We had met two groups of people that were scrambling and said there was only one difficult area just at the top, but you should be okay if you have ropes. ROPES?? We didn’t have any ropes and I started to get nervous. I took one look at the difficult part and told my self, “there is no way.” It was a little windy slippery path that went straight up a rock face. Richard and Hayley (college kids) went up and when I saw them on top of the bridge I began to regret it. I studied the path and knew where to put my feet and called Mehdi to come and help me. I finally made it to the top and the view was spectacular. You could see everywhere and I felt so happy that I was living in this desert. I consider this place my home. When we went to Egypt I missed it so much, and realized that a piece of my heart will be buried in this sand forever. I have fantasies of me having a tent out in the desert where I would just sit in the silence and write all the stories that come to my mind. This desert has energy that wraps you and you can never let go, because you never want to. I also love the culture here, some people say this place reminds them of out west, just by how it looks. Out west you don’t have that culture, here you have the spirit of the Bedouins that is embedded in every nook and cranny of the rocks. The people here are extremely friendly, but they are humans as well and susceptible to jealousy, temptation, anger, and all the other traits we humans experience in life.
On the way back Hayley and I were so tired and our hips were on fire. Finally, one car stopped with a very young guide that I had met a couple of times in the village. The people in the car saw how tired we were and one woman said “We just can’t leave them here, they must come with us.” So, Hayley and I climbed up on top of the car on the roof racks and sat on the top as we were driven around. They were going to another part in the desert so we were dumped in the middle of nowhere. I got my sense of direction and figured that the camp was straight but we were told to wait for the rest of the group. We sat in the middle of the desert writing names and making hand turkeys, until the rest of the group finally arrived. We walked a total of 10 hours that day and when I got back to the camp, I could feel the relief radiating off of my legs when I sat down. Maybe next time I go hiking in the desert, I won’t go for so long.

I don’t want to leave in a month. Climbing up to Burdah really made me realized that I consider this place home, the kids my brothers and sisters, the drivers my buds, and the desert my home. I miss some things about the United States, but I am just not ready to head back into western life. I love the person I am here. I don’t have corrupted opinions of people because maybe they don’t wear the right clothes or say the right things like what happens to you when you are in high school. I feel alive and free, like the whole world is open to me to explore. I love how I talk without saying “like” every 5 seconds, how I smile all the time, and I don’t feel nervous to laugh when something is funny. I am happy that my mom took me out of high school because I saw that I was going down the wrong path of extreme teenager. Yikes! I love this Bailey Theado, and I hope she stays with me when I return to the states.